Phoenix Legacy

by Corrina Lawson

  He was too good to be true. It made her suspicious.

  “I can understand your discomfort.” Genet relaxed back in his nice, shiny leather chair. “But you will be doing your child a great service, giving him an advantage few others would have. And your records, of course, would be kept completely confidential. All that we want is the medical information, not anything personal.”

  She wanted her kid to start out right, but the old paranoia nagged at her. “The government is out to get us, the corporations are out to get us. Lawyers are the worst of all.”

  Shut up, she told the faded memory. Doctors were supposed to be safe. And these men had been recommended by the people at the clinic. They had no stake in steering her wrong.

  Buchanan, sensing her hesitation, launched into what could only be the company spiel about the wonders of adoption. He cited a bunch of studies and testimonials from adopted kids, about what a godsend it would be and why she should be a part of it.

  It all sounded wonderful. Buchanan was an engaging person, friendly without being too oily. She liked him.

  But she didn’t like this. She finally knew why. It felt too much like running away, abandoning a bad situation instead of sticking it out. She’d done so much of that as a kid as her parents wandered from town to town, afraid of being caught. She’d learned to hate it.

  Sticking with this situation was different from moving, however. For one, she’d be stuck with the decision for eighteen years and beyond.

  Genet smiled at her again. Most women probably swooned when he did that. She might have, another day. But she was tired, pregnant and mentally exhausted. She didn’t feel in the least bit sexy. And she didn’t feel up to signing the damn papers either.

  Hell.

  Genet and Buchanan would have to find another girl.

  “Tell me, what is making you hesitate?” Genet asked, holding out his palm as if asking her to touch it.

  She ignored the implied offer. “I’m just not comfortable with anyone overseeing my medical records. And I’ve never been pregnant before. What happens if I get attached to my baby at the last minute?”

  “We understand,” Genet said, still all charm. “And, yes, you can change your mind at the last minute. But I think what’s bothering you are natural fears and concerns. Once you get past them, you’ll have faith in your choice of adoption. What can I do to reassure you?”

  “Give me time to think this over.”

  “I wish we had time.” Genet sighed dramatically. “To put it bluntly, Ms. Sefton, we need a decision soon. Our couples are frustrated, frightened and feel like they are running out of their chance for parenthood. I wanted to at least provide them with some good news, that there may be a child available soon. All you need to do is take the profiles over to our conference center, look them over, and decide.” He leaned forward, intent. “We would love an answer today. You’ll be helping us out by doing so.”

  And wouldn’t that be a fine thing, Genet seemed to be saying. Not many people turned down a chance to help this man, she guessed.

  “I’m sorry, you’ve both been very persuasive and understanding, but I need more time to think it over. So if you need an answer today, I’d have to say I’ve changed my mind about adoption. I want to keep the baby.”

  That felt good, she decided. It felt better than the fear she felt when she looked at her son’s ultrasound photos. It felt better than when she’d walked in the room. It made no sense but it felt good.

  She was going to be a mom.

  She stood up. She was tired, she was hungry and she finally realized why Genet made her nervous. He reminded her of Hawk’s stepfather, who had been charismatic as hell. He’d also been the cruelest person she’d ever met. He’d ruined Hawk and indirectly caused her parents’ murders.

  Her instincts said not to deal with him. Even if, under other circumstances, she’d want to drag him off to bed.

  “Thank you for the appointment, gentlemen, and I’ll keep thinking about this. I’m very sorry I couldn’t help your clients as yet.”

  “You can find my number on the top sheet of those documents.” Buchanan handed her a folder with a brochure of more testimonials by adoptive parents on top. “Please think about it. Think of how beneficial this could be in the long run for you and your child.”

  “I understand.” She took a deep breath. “When I walked in here, I fully intended to commit to an adoption. Now, I’m just not sure.”

  “What changed your mind?” Genet asked.

  “I think it’s as simple as thinking about doing something is not the same as doing it.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry for wasting your time.”

  “But you can’t…” Buchanan sputtered. Genet stood up and glared at her. Del walked out without saying another word.

  What an odd thing for Buchanan to say. He shouldn’t be so invested in whether she agreed or not. He was just a lawyer, a go-between. And Genet had looked pissed off. She bet he’d already considered this a done deal and she’d bruised his ego by walking out.

  Good, she thought.

  She felt them staring at her as she walked away, though she knew that wasn’t possible. When she reached the main lobby of the office building, she even glanced back over her shoulder to make certain they were not following.

  Now that was definitely paranoid.

  Chapter Six

  Philip plunged into the burning laboratory. Smoke billowed in the air, cutting his visibility down to less than two feet directly in front of him. He banged his hip into a table. He swore and pulled a mini-light out of his coat pocket. The small but powerful light cut through the thick air, but it only gave him a narrow field of vision.

  He saw a figure in a white lab coat on the floor across the room. Heat seared his skin as he drew closer to the flames and the body. The toxic smoke burned his nostrils and blurred his eyes, causing him far more problems than obscuring his sight. He dropped to his knees beside the body. The scientist had a squishy spot at the base of his skull. His chest did not rise or fall. Dead, perhaps. His left hand was clenched tight, as if he was holding something. Philip pried the hand open and found a thumb drive. He pocketed it, grabbed the scientist underneath the arms and started dragging him to the exit.

  Something popped, like a balloon bursting. He heard the tinkling of glass exploding and fell on the limp scientist, covering him as much as he could. He hid his eyes behind his forearm.

  Molten glass and metal rained down on his sleeve, burning through the cloth and directly into his skin.

  He grimaced at the sharp flash of pain and patted down his fiery sleeve with his other hand. More pain, more burned skin. Out, get out, he told himself. Staying low, he stumbled for the door, scientist in tow. Alec should be at the door and could protect him from the fire. All he had to do was get there.

  Pain sliced through his forearm. One of the glass shards must have buried itself deep in his skin. His lungs felt like molten fire. Instead of denying or suppressing the agony, he rode with the pain, letting it roll through him. The strong tinge of pleasure, even arousal, overcame the pain.

  He was more alive and more aroused even than during sex. The intense pleasure kept him moving, but it did nothing for his blurry vision. His mini-light was now useless. He focused on the blaring red of the exit sign, using it as a beacon as he tugged the scientist in his wake.

  He was only one step through the ruined door when a fuzzy figure appeared. The firestarter.

  Alec grabbed the inert body of the scientist from him and placed the man over his shoulder seemingly without effort. Philip tried to breathe. It felt like a thousand pinpricks of flames burned inside his chest.

  “I’m losing the fire. Too much fuel in here.” Alec coughed. “Run.”

  As they ran for the outer lobby, Philip heard a crash from behind. It sounded like a light fixture or a support beam. Bad, either way. He couldn’t keep Alec’s pace and suspected the boy was slowing down for him.

  It was only when they reached the outer l
obby and the relatively clear air there that Philip could take another breath. And that short breath was full of agony/pleasure. Spots appeared before his eyes. Not enough oxygen, he thought. He was losing consciousness.

  Alec took him by the elbow and led him outside to safety.

  Philip put his hands on his knees to steady himself. Pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending. His breathing began to steady as the fresh air and his healing ability began soothing his injured lungs.

  He looked up. The lab employees gathered outside, shocked and frightened, and milled around in a loose group. Fire engines, sirens blaring, pulled into the parking lot. A patrol car, lights flashing, joined them.

  Alec set the inert scientist on the ground. Now that he could see clearly, Philip could tell the man was dead. He’d seen that glassy look in corpses’ eyes all too often.

  Alec shook his head and left the dead man to the first responders.

  Philip walked behind the crowd of employees and leaned against a car. His breathing was still ragged. Likely his lungs had been seared badly by the smoke. If he’d been in the fire longer, he might have truly died. If he were a normal man, he’d never have made it out alive, even with Alec’s help. He concentrated, imagining healthy, pink and functioning lungs. The healing flooded his body again, mingling with the pleasure he derived from the pain until it was all one.

  He had never been addicted to drugs or alcohol. He could do without his job at the CIA. He liked sex, but he could be celibate for long periods. But if he ever wanted proof that he not only liked pain but craved the feeling, this was it.

  Beth’s telepathic talent had been the catalyst for upgrading his healing from an unconscious and sometimes unreliable power to its current level that allowed him to repair seared lungs.

  If Beth knew that she had also mixed up his pleasure and pain circuits, she’d be appalled. He never intended to tell her.

  “Drake?” Alec asked.

  “I’m fine.” Philip opened his eyes.

  “Your sleeve is burned and there’s blood all over it. And if I’m coughing from the smoke, you have to be much worse.”

  “I’m better now.” Philip shrugged. He’d barely paid attention to the arm injury. “Can you handle the questions from the police?”

  Alec nodded. “Why? Are you going somewhere?”

  “Genet just took out his lab. That means he’s about to go underground, which means he’s going to make a move on the woman carrying the experimental baby. Today, maybe even right now.” If he was Genet, he’d move that fast.

  “How do we find her?”

  “You don’t, I do,” Philip said. “Bring Cheshire to me. He’ll give me her name and address.”

  Alec’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t kill him.”

  “I won’t. Not today, at least. We need the information in his head.” Philip squinted at the bright light of the sun. “Once I get the name and address from Cheshire, I’m leaving. Make damned sure you never let Cheshire out of your sight. Bring him back to the Institute any way possible. He’s our key. We can’t afford to lose track of him.”

  Alec nodded. “Right.”

  Philip put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the USB drive. “The dead man was clutching this. Get your tech expert on it, but be careful. It could be coded or, worse, rigged to delete the data without proper authorization.”

  “I could go get the woman and you could deal with Cheshire and the police,” Alec said. “This could be my kid, Drake.”

  It also could be my child. Or brother, if this was Lansing’s baby. “This is my type of work, not yours. You wanted to be in charge of the Phoenix Institute, then be in charge and leave the field work to me.”

  Alec frowned but did as he was asked. Relieved, Philip watched as Alec went over to Dr. Cheshire. Whatever the firestarter said, it worked, because Cheshire headed over to him.

  Alec began talking to the police.

  Cheshire, face white, stared at Philip. “No one should have survived going into that room.”

  Philip shrugged. “And no one should be dead because of your experiment, Doctor, but they are. Give me the name and address of this woman carrying your ‘successful experiment’, and give it to me now.”

  “But that’s confidential.”

  “Not to Genet. He destroyed your lab and murdered your assistant. She’s next.”

  “He won’t hurt her. She’s too important to the work.”

  Philip stepped closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “He won’t kill her, Cheshire. But he will take her and hide her from everyone, including you. All that effort, all those hours in your lab and you’ll never know how it turns out.”

  Cheshire’s eyes widened, proving to Philip that he’d picked the right button to push. “Where will you take her?”

  “The same place where you’re going with Mr. Farley. Now, name and address. For all we know, Genet could be moving on your experiment as we speak. He has a head start.”

  Cheshire blurted out the name and address.

  “What does she look like?” Philip asked.

  Cheshire pulled up a photo on his smart phone. Philip grabbed the phone and stared at the photo, committing the woman to memory.

  Thick, wavy brown hair and dark eyes set in a smiling face. Yet her expression held something beneath the surface, as if she was amused by a private secret. Add that to beautifully sculptured cheekbones and a small mouth that seemed intensely kissable, and he was intrigued.

  Lansing had picked a woman with some substance, if he read her face properly. Not an innocent, this woman had seen some of life. And there was something about her that felt familiar.

  No, if he’d seen this woman before, he’d never have forgotten her.

  Alec walked over to them, and Philip, ignoring Cheshire’s protests, handed the phone to the firestarter. He left the doctor in Alec’s capable hands.

  Philip headed to his car, musing on how quickly Cheshire had given away Delilah Sefton’s name and identity. People seemed to believe torture was the way to get information from people. That hardly ever worked. The way to get information was to get into the subject’s head. Empathy worked too, but there was no time for that with the doctor. So he’d lied to make Cheshire think he could continue his experiment.

  Though there were times Philip wished he had resorted to torture. Like with Cheshire, who didn’t give a damn for the Sefton woman, only his work.

  Philip pulled out of the parking lot without revving the engine. But he gunned it when he reached the highway. Right now, speed was more important than security.

  Chapter Seven

  Del spotted the classic blue Dodge Charger in the Bar & Grill parking lot through her bedroom window as she dressed for her midafternoon shift.

  That was an awesome car.

  Her regulars agreed. They’d gathered around the car instead of hunkering down in the bar.

  She finished dressing quickly and walked to the living room window. Residing on the second floor of Bar & Grill allowed her to see who was coming or going, and she’d learned to recognize the cars that belonged to her regulars. This was definitely the first time the Charger had been here. Unless one of her regulars had just bought a new car, the driver was new to Bar & Grill as well.

  Like her regulars, she wanted a closer look too.

  Gathered around the Charger were Tammy’s oldest son, Mike, their sometimes bartender/dishwasher; Jake, who had lived on the lake all his life and ran a local bait store in season; Jessica, the single mom who dropped by at night to relax in a familiar crowd; and several of the weekday barflies.

  There was one unfamiliar face, though it was hard to get a look at him from this far away. All she could tell was that he had a thick shock of dark hair and that he was nicely built. She judged him to be about six feet tall. He wore jeans, boots and a short blue coat that showed off strong shoulders. From the possessive way he gestured at the Charger, he must be the driver.

  Tall, dark and handsome man walks into a bar. She smile
d. Sometimes clichés did come true. She could use a night of staring at someone like that. The distraction would be welcome, after today, just so long as he wasn’t arrogant, like Genet.

  She hoped the stranger had restored the car himself rather than buying it as a toy. That would mean he was a real mechanic, not somebody out for a joyride in his new toy.

  She wondered how he’d happened onto Bar & Grill. People had to know her place was here to find it. Only locals came here, and he wasn’t a local.

  Del opened the window and leaned out. The fall breeze blew her hair in her face and she had to push it aside to see. “Are you going to all spend the night in the parking lot drooling over that car?”

  Jessica laughed. “It’s not just the car I’m drooling over!”

  “Well, bring him inside and buy him a drink instead of staring at him in the parking lot! I need paying customers!”

  The car’s owner looked up at her. Del couldn’t see his features clearly, but there was something familiar about the way he focused his attention on her. At first, she thought, “cop”, but that wasn’t it. Intense, she thought, despite the fact he was standing there calmly. She took a deep breath as her face grew warm. Oh, my. No wonder Jessica was drooling over him. He had presence, much like his car.

  Yet even as he held her gaze, his stance gave away the fact he was wary. He was on alert for some reason. Perhaps a former soldier who’d not lost his battle-readiness yet?

  Maybe he needed a night of drinking and some feminine comfort to relax. Well, if so, he’d come to the right place. If Jessica gave up on flirting with him, Del would take over.

  “You heard her!” The stranger turned to the crowd. “Inside, everyone. Drinks on me!”

  Jessica, laughing, led everyone inside. Del closed the window, glad of something new tonight. It would get the encounter with Genet out of her head. She thought once she arrived home, she’d be less paranoid. Instead, thinking back on what happened, she was more concerned. Those two men had been genuinely ticked off that she’d changed her mind.